


The Price of Duty

by EndlessExplorer



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Elder Maxson is not an asshole, F/M, Love Paladin Danse, Screw your duty, brotherhood of steel for life!, identity crisis, inner turmoil, love is the best medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-02-22 17:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessExplorer/pseuds/EndlessExplorer
Summary: After the truth is found out, Paladin Danse goes into hiding. Samantha Winters is sent after him, but can she convince him that he is better off staying alive? ... I'm not the best at summaries but I hope I did it justice. Please read, rate, and enjoy! I've an account on fanfiction.net with some other stories but this is my first on Archive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I believe that after Arthur finds out about Danse, the years of friendship aren't so easily forgotten but he obviously has to show that he wouldn't play favourites in front of his other soldiers. This is a piece that I wish would actually play out in the game but since it didn't, well... here we are...

Danse sat there, deep in contemplation and reflection over the events that had transpired over the last 48 hours. In a heartbeat, Danse had gone from a high-ranking Brotherhood officer to being in the same rank and file as his enemies.

  Not long after his partner, Knight Samantha Winters, had left him to watch over the nuke stockpile in the Sentinel Site, he had received a message over an encrypted channel from Scribe Haylin. It had been alarming that she had chosen to contact him in such a secretive manner, so he accepted her call, fearing the worst. Like always, his gut instincts had been right.

 Thankfully, Haylin had been assigned to the scribe team responsible for deciphering and transcribing the information that Sam had stolen when she infiltrated the institute. It had now come to light that Danse was a synth, simply dubbed M7-97. He didn’t believe it at first and had grown angry with Haylin for such an outrageous accusation but after she confirmed the news with a DNA sample, Danse began to panic. After telling Haylin to never contact him again and to forget that he even existed, he went to hang up his side of the radio transmission but not before he heard a soft sob come through from Haylin’s side. Danse apologised and wished his dear friend good luck in her future before he removed his helmet and crushed it underneath his armoured boot, severing the radio connection, and by extension, tracking capabilities of the Brotherhood.

   Once Danse had reached the surface, he simply forgot any logical thought and left his body run on auto-pilot while his subconscious tried to make sense of his newly established identity crisis. While Danse desperately didn’t want to believe the news, things had now begun to make sense to him. Like for instance, the earliest memories that he had was when he had opened the Junk shop back in Rivet City with Cutler. Why couldn’t he remember his childhood? Or his home? Or even his family? Up until now, Danse had justified his lapse in memory with how the Brotherhood was his family now, The Citadel and the Prydwen his home, and that his childhood didn’t require remembering. Danse’s usual clear lines of thought had become fuzzy and he couldn’t make sense of anything. It wasn’t until much later that Danse realised that he was standing outside Listening Post Bravo. Deciding that it was an appropriate place to await his demise at Arthur’s hands, Danse stepped out of his Power Armour and stood back. Grabbing a stone by his feet, Danse brought it up high and drew it down across the Brotherhood’s insignia that he had carefully painted on the chest-plate. Once the paint was successfully scratched off, Danse ripped off his officer’s uniform like it had begun to burn his skin on contact. Opening a storage compartment within his armour, Danse pulled out a bottle of Whiskey that Sam had demanded he keep on him in cases of celebration. He doused the clothing in the heavy liquor before he drank the rest and threw the glass onto a nearby hill. Following that, Danse grabbed a book of matches and two photographs that he also kept within the compartment.

  One photo was of a much younger and less battle-worn Danse and Cutler, their arms thrown over each other’s shoulders on the day that they had first opened the Junk Store. Danse looked at how happy his former self had been, and he wished deeply that he could go back to those days of laughter and youthful arrogance. Danse looked at Cutler then, thankful that whatever merciless bastard had made him, had at least left him with the memories of the one person he could claim to be family. Danse loved Cutler like a brother and the two of them were as thick as thieves, often going on scrap runs for one of the resident scientists, a man by the name of James. In fact, he could remember Abraham Washington and his museum of American History or Flak and his vast weapon stores. Danse began to feel sick that he was simply delving through a dead man’s memory and in a huff of disgust, he threw the photo on top of the burning uniform.

  The second photo was of himself and the then, Initiate Sam Winters. It was after they had returned from Arcjet and Danse had officially made Sam part of recon squad Gladius. She had salvaged a camera from the ruin and simply wanted a photo with her new group of friends. Haylin had jumped at the chance, saying that the atmosphere of the police station had to lighten up, while Rys simply groaned, complaining that the newest recruit was simply wasting their time. Thankfully, Sam had convinced Danse that the photo was a good idea and the Paladin ordered Rys to join them in the photo. Rys stood stock straight in the photo, with his hands joined behind his back and Haylin had Sam in a chokehold whilst they both were laughing loudly. Sadly, it wasn’t until the film was developed that Sam realised that due to the height of Danse’s armour, it was only from his neck down that he was in the frame, but Danse appreciated the photo regardless and kept it close, inside the compartment. Danse went to throw the picture on top of what was now simply cinders, but he realised that he simply couldn’t. It began to physically hurt when he’d think of throwing the photo away, so he decided to keep it and headed deep underground inside the listening post, awaiting the angel of death that he was certain would be wearing a leather jacket and almost permanent scowl. Sadly, he was wrong. Very wrong.

   After setting up some outer defences, Danse retreated inside the bunker and awaited his executioner. Some few hours later, Danse heard the tell-tale signs that someone had finally shown up. The turret was taken out with a precise .50 calibre shot and the Protectron was simply hacked and shut down. When Danse heard the elevator being called up, he made no attempt to hinder it and began thinking who it could be that Arthur sent for his head. It was too calm for it to have been Arthur himself, and anyway Danse would have been able to hear the ten suits of Power Armour that made up the Elder’s honour guard, if their esteemed Elder had decided to attend his friend’s execution. The lift was now coming down and Danse swallowed hard. He may be a robot, but he still feared death.

   Danse sat there, defenceless, and unarmed. He knew what awaited him once those doors opened and now he found himself thinking of someone that become very important to him, and that person was Sam Winters. Danse could remember every mission they went on together. Each close call that they narrowly avoided. Each lecture that he had given his subordinate on how to properly conduct herself on a battlefield and every lecture that he had received back telling him to ungraciously ‘pull the stick out of his ass and lighten up’. Danse would be lying if he said that he wouldn’t miss her. Their professional relationship had become a close relationship between two friends, and Danse had hoped that if she managed to reach the rank of Paladin someday, that they’d have been able to have a romantic relationship as well. Danse could feel his chest constrict every time he had to help Sam go in to see Knight-Captain Cade for a bullet wound or if she needed the rads flushed out of her system. Her ferocity in battle was inspiring as she would eliminate her enemies in an efficient fashion and just like Danse had predicted, she made a prime example of the perfect Brotherhood soldier, despite only joining roughly three months ago. She was his partner, and Danse had abandoned her to face the wrath of Arthur Maxson alone. Maxson probably assumed that Sam knew about Danse being a synth and it scared him to think of what vicious torture she could be being subjected to. Danse felt an intense anger burn inside him but he knew that he wouldn’t get near the Prydwen and would probably be killed before he even reached the perimeter gate.

   The elevator doors shuddered open and Danse hung his head, awaiting his grizzly fate. He could hear the boot crunching on the loose stones, and it was getting closer.

   “Danse! Paladin Danse! You here?!” Danse heard them shout. He recognized the voice immediately and the fact that Arthur had sent her to be his executioner was a clear sign that the long years of friendship between himself and the Elder were long forgotten. Danse slowly rose to his full height from where he was crouched on the floor and tried to look Sam in the eyes. Danse couldn’t bring himself to do it however, he was too ashamed with who he was, what he was, and how he had acted with the news. Danse expected to just get a rifle slug right between the eyes, but when Sam knocked him down with a hard slap, it took Danse a few minutes to come back to reality.

   Looking up, Danse’s vision had begun to get clearer and all he could think of was that Death looked stunning. Sam’s eyes held a ferocious anger, but the brunette tresses running down her face looked as beautiful as ever. She was wearing the leather Jacket that she had stolen from Kellogg’s limp corpse, his 44. was hanging from her hip and Danse recognized the rifle in her hands because it had always been on her. Sam looked every part the Brotherhood soldier or rugged Wasteland Survivor and Danse couldn’t have been prouder of her. Sam had come a long way since the frightened housewife he once knew her as. Danse tried once again to stare into Sam’s eyes but felt as though he would burn up in the fury contained within. Danse stood up then, dropped his hands by his side, and awaited his fate once again. Once again to Danse’s surprise, Sam threw her rifle to the floor, followed by her pistol and Jacket. She stood there, fists raised, while wearing only a white tank top, grey trousers and boots, having taken off her armour as well. Danse would have been lying if he said that he hadn’t tried to stare at the small piece of exposed cleavage, but he felt horrible with himself afterwards.

   “Fight me!” Sam screamed. Danse just stared at her in disbelief. While Danse would commend her fighting spirit and high level of stamina, Sam had never even come close to defeating Danse in the sparring ring back aboard the Prydwen. Danse couldn’t see any point in delaying the inevitable and refused to lift his hands.

   “Knight Winters? What is the point of all this? Just do what you were ordered to do and return to your duties. I’m sorry for putting you through all this, but if I must die at the hands of my peers, there’s no one I’d rather kill me than you. At least the last thing I get to see down here in the dark is a ray of beautiful sunshine.” Danse said, his head still hung low. There was silence, followed by a shriek of frustration and rage. Danse was about to look up, but he was then punched again and knocked down a second time.

   “Knight Winters!? What the hell is with that! What about Sam or Sammy? Was all that time that we spent together, just like a job to you?! Are we friends or not! Now stand up and FIGHT ME! I WILL NOT KILL SOMEONE WHO IS DEFENCELESS!” Sam ordered. Danse had to try and clear the cobwebs from his vision because that last punch left him disorientated. Danse stood up slowly and watched as Sam pulled two pairs of Brass Knuckles out of her rucksack.

   “Sa...Sam? What are you doing? I’m unarmed, defenceless… isn’t this a bit excessive?” Danse pleaded.

   “I’m trying to knock some fucking sense into that thick head of yours! Now brace yourself…” Sam said, before she gave Danse an uppercut to the chin, knocking him back. Danse stumbled a bit before he regained his footing. Danse was getting sick of these jabs and decided that if Sam wanted a fight, then he’d give her one.

   “Alright then Sam. Come on and tell me! What is all this about?! I am the enemy and you are honour bound to the Elder to carry out his wishes. You are bound by duty to kill me!” Danse shouted as he swung at his old partner. Sam ducked beneath the swing effortlessly and took a jab at his shoulder. It hurt to even swing his arms at her, but he’d abide by her wishes.

   “This is about you, leaving me, to face Arthur’s wrath! I talked to Haylin, who was in tears I might add, who told me where I might find you. She told me that you ordered her to forget you even existed! What the hell kind of thing is that to tell a friend! You say that you are an enemy of the Brotherhood, that you are a cold, emotionless machine… And yet you RAN when you were SCARED! I would run from my mom when I was scared! It is a normal biological response!” Sam shouted as she dodged another swing.

   “I have not and will not EVER put the brotherhood in danger! I will not allow the Institute to use me to hurt my Brother’s and Sister’s! I am now one of those dangers and if you will not kill me, then I will do so myself! It is my duty, to myself, to my fellow soldiers, and to my elder!” Danse said, blocking a blow from Sam.

   “Screw your duty! Duty is just another word for suicide for people like you! You say that you’re doing the right thing, taking the high road in a world where people favour the easier options! But all you do is kill who you used to be and end up making the world a worse place for your absence!” Sam shouted back. Danse dropped his guard momentarily, and Sam took the chance to punch him once again in the jaw and after she knocked him down, Sam began to straddle his chest to keep Danse pinned beneath her. Danse really didn’t like the amount of times that he’d been knocked down in the last hour, but he couldn’t help but think on what Sam had been saying. Looking at her now, Sam seemed to have run out of fuel. Her head hung low, and Sam was pounding on his chest, each punch getting softer and softer until she just stopped and burst out in anguished tears.

   “Sam? What’s wrong? Seriously? Tell me… please?” Danse asked, hating seeing his close friend be so depressed.

   “It’s the price of that damn ‘duty’ of yours. Nate was the same, back before the Great War. The second it became available, Nate ran off to play soldier, saying it was a manner of his civil duty to protect his homeland but I knew different. Always going on about his grandfather fighting in the second world war… It was almost like he felt he had to prove himself. There were plenty of ways that he could have helped at home in the USA, and be able to stay home and help his pregnant wife. But nope! Ran off to a battlefield and came back a mere shell of the man he was when he left. Sure, he had medals to display on the wall, but the fun, goofy man that I had fallen in love with and married, had died back in those trenches. Now here you are doing the damn same thing! Killing yourself just because you feel you should. But what about the rest of us? Do we deserve to see the people we care about, die?” Sam said. The fury seemed to have burned out in her eyes and now she just looked very tired.

   “I’m sorry Sam… I didn’t realise. Believe me, I don’t want to die, but I know that if I so much as show my head down at the airport, Arthur would dive right off the flight deck and attempt to kill me. My life is over, I’ve nothing left…” Danse said, solemnly. Sam slipped off Danse and lay there beside him, her eyelids drooped as her body craved some rest. Danse couldn’t stop himself from staring at her. Despite being over 200 years old, and having a scar running alongside her left eye, the years had been kind to her as her face still showed how young she was. Her body was toned and showed very little body fat. She seemed to have paid attention to Danse when they had trained before. His eyes travelled down along her body to her toned legs and stopped when he laid eyes on the sheath of her combat knife that must have fallen off during the fight. Danse picked up the knife and considered his options.

   Sam would obviously be distraught over his death, Haylin as well, it would seem. Rys would probably gratefully put a bullet in Danse’s head, his loyalty to the Order ran so deep it almost rivalled Danse’s. Arthur would probably commend the Institute for programming their robots to have some common sense. It was funny though, how no matter how loud his conscience told him to bury the blade in his chest, something also stopped him from doing it. After roughly an hour of debating his options and still not being able to come to a conclusion, Danse threw the blade away in sheer frustration. As the blade clunk against something, the noise seemed to wake Sam, who Danse hadn’t realised fall asleep beside him. Danse still felt horrible about Sam and the position she was in. God knows when he had to kill Cutler, it stung deep, regardless of if he was a super mutant or not. Turning to lie on his side, Danse stared at Sam again.

   “Why Sammy? Why didn’t you just kill me? If Arthur suspects you or harbouring me, or helping me, he’d burn your name from the Codex in a heartbeat. I can’t let that happen, I’m not worth it.” Danse whispered. Sam didn’t say anything. Sighing, Sam just scooted closer to Danse and she was now so close, Danse could smell the plain soap from the Prydwen in her hair. What surprised Danse though, was when he could feel Sam press her lips up against his own. His eyes opened wide in surprise, and the soldier froze. When Sam broke away, and saw the guy totally paralysed, she laughed loudly. The beautiful sound of her laughter pulled Danse from his stupor and rather than look surprised, he just stared at Sam in disbelief. Almost as though his senses were lying to his brain.

   “Because I love you, you bastard. That’s why I couldn’t kill you. That’s why I was so angry with Arthur when he ordered your execution. When I heard that you suddenly went to ground, I knew that the only way I could save you would be to act like the ideal soldier and, I promised to hunt you down mercilessly. Haylin overheard me talking to Quinlan and burst into his office and tackled me to the ground, shouting that I’d have died if not for you helping me. I couldn’t break cover and defend you, so Quinlan had Haylin thrown in the holding cells for attacking a superior officer. I talked to her afterward and she apologised. It was then that she told me about this place. You’ve some fan there, Paladin.” Sam explained. After Sam’s confession, the confused look on Danse’s face just got bigger. This got another laugh out of Sam but Danse just looked depressed.

   “It’s just M7-97 now. I’m a civilian now. If we hadn’t already discovered and eliminated the railroad, I suggest joining them. Since that’s no longer an option, I might go back home to Rivet City in D.C. With the Prydwen here, there’s no safe place for me here anymore. By the way, I feel as though I should thank you.” Danse said. Now Sam looked depressed, but let Danse continue.

   “Why would you thank me? I’m the one who killed you. It’s because of me wanting to find Shaun that allowed the Brotherhood to attain the information which condemned you. If anything, I’m angry with myself because even when I found Shaun, I didn’t find my baby, I found a monster with twisted ideals and a god complex. When he referred to Nate, despite how much of a bastard he was, as collateral damage… I knew there was no soul left in that man, despite our relation to one another.” Sam said, solemnly. Danse leaned in and kissed her forehead.

   “It’s the love that you’ve shown me that’s allowed me to keep living. I wondered what would stop me whenever I’d attempt to take my own life, and it turns out that no matter what I am, I love you too and I’d do anything to keep you in my life. Would you join me in going to D.C? You could ask Arthur to transfer you to the Citadel? I’d resume my junk stall in Rivet City… What do you think?” Danse pleaded. It broke Sam’s heart because he seemed desperate.

   “Danse, you know I can’t. I have responsibilities here, to both the Minutemen and the Brotherhood. Now I must also try and stop my son from enslaving the entire Commonwealth… Geez, that never gets any easier to say. I’m always thinking about how life would be different if they had never kidnapped Shaun. I mightn’t have ever met you Danse, and I know that this is dreadfully selfish, but in my heart, I believe that to be a fair trade. By the way, do you not have any first name?” Sam asked, wrapping her arms around Danse’s broad chest. Despite only wearing his underwear, it was impressive just how warm the man was. It was an underestimated comfort to Sam.

   “Well, I’ve never thought about it. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been known as Danse, or Initiate, or Knight, the list goes on. Even Cutler just knew me as Danse. As for Shaun, I’m terribly sorry about that. It must hurt to know that you must kill your own child. Those bastards in the Institute… they just play God all day long, not caring about the consequences or the people that they hurt in the process. I wish that I’d be able to join the charge on the Institute but, I’m just happy to have been able to be a cog in the Brotherhood’s war machine. My absence won’t change anything, a cog can always be replaced.” Danse said, hugging Sam back. Suddenly a thought came to Sam.

   “Act- Wait… Do you smell that?” Sam asked. Danse lifted his nose into the air and inhaled, instantly regretting it.

   “It smells like gas! Sure look! When I threw your knife, I must have punctured a canister. C’mon hurry! We’ve to get out of here!” Danse shouted. Sam grabbed her weapons and Jacket before following Danse into the elevator. As the elevator lifted, both Sam and Danse thanked whatever higher power was listening for the miracle of fresh, irradiated air.

   “Matt! That’s what your first name will be. It kinda fits in with that M7-97 crap and it suits you. Now I have a plan and it should keep you safe.” Sam said, as the elevator opened once again. Stepping outside, Sam saw a Vertibird sitting on a nearby landing pad, but instantly saw the colour drain from Danse’s face. Turning around to the sound of a creaking door, Sam saw their illustrious Elder Maxson, walking slowly towards them. As Arthur got closer, he began to bare his teeth and his face became increasingly more scarlet.

   “Knight! Why the hell is that creature there, still drawing breath! I believe that I had been clear when I ordered you to KILL IT!” Maxson screamed, the veins in his neck standing.

   “I’m sorry Elder, but I cannot kill Former Paladin Danse. He was my superior officer and my friend. Can you please spare him?” Sam asked. Maxson’s head quickly jerked in Danse’s direction and then came back to stare at Sam. It hurt Arthur to see his friend in his current situation but Danse must understand that if Arthur made one exception, the general order in the Brotherhood would fracture and break down.

   “Arthur… If I may, I just ask that if you do kill me, please just don’t incriminate Knight Winters. If the years of comradery mean anything to you, please just fulfil that one last request. Well I suppose you don’t owe me anything… God only knows where the real Paladin Danse is…” Danse asked. Arthur sighed deeply, the anger finally starting to subside.

    “See Elder? If he really was the enemy, he’d have tried already to bring the Brotherhood down. But instead, I’ve had to stop him trying to kill himself so that he could ensure the Institute doesn’t use him to harm anyone he cares about. That kind of loyalty is rare and I’m sure from what I’ve heard in the common area that it’s not common.” Sam pleaded. Arthur lifted his hand up to Sam.

   “That’s enough Winters. I’m sorry but Danse knows what happens to the Brotherhood’s enemies. You heard me when you first appeared aboard the Prydwen. The Institute is a malignant growth, one that we must eradicate to the highest degree. There can be no exception!” Arthur ordered. Sam thought he was projecting his voice very loudly but her current situation required her full attention, so Sam focused her attention back to the elder. Suddenly, the sharp hiss of compressed air brought her attention to Danse, who had a dart sticking out of his chest. Danse’s eyes seemed to roll back before the man fell back and stopped moving. Sam started to scream, but Arthur grabbed her by the shoulders. Sam fell to her knees and started sobbing. Arthur dropped a scrap of paper in Sam’s lap and then turned around, telling Sam over his shoulder that she was to destroy the synth and report back to the Prydwen immediately.

   Once Arthur’s Vertibird was far enough away, Sam threw her head up and started to cry loudly. She didn’t care who, or what heard her, but she had to relieve the pain of not having anyone left in the world. She then remembered the scrap of paper, and unwrapped it with shaky hands.

   _Dear Ms. Winters,_

_I’m sorry about shooting the Paladin, but don’t worry. I only shot him with a fast-acting sedative. Tell Danse that I’m sorry but he will understand that I couldn’t make an exception for him, despite the good years we’ve shared as friends._

_By the way, I’m not stupid. I know about your little militia over in the castle, so if you could employ him there or anything really… I also know that you two seemed to be rather close, so if there is anything going on, take good care of my best friend. To the Brotherhood’s knowledge, Paladin Danse is now dead, so if so much as pokes his head out near the airport, it is a shoot-to-kill order._

_Now, the sedative should wear off after an hour, so I’m giving you two hours to report back to me with an update on our ‘mutual friend’. As for that promotion I mentioned, since I now have an open position in the ranks, I’d like to be the first to congratulate you, Paladin Winters._

_Kind Regards,_

_Arthur._

Sam stared at the sheet in disbelief. It turned out that there was some humanity left within the Elder, and Sam found that she now had some new-found respect for the young Elder. Seeing the tell-tale sign of a radiation storm, Sam pulled Danse’s unconscious body inside the Listening Post, which proved to be quite difficult. Laying Danse beside the small fire Sam had made inside the Listening post, she draped her leather jacket over him and sat beside him, guarding him while he slept. After a while, the storm had passed, and Sam had begun to feel stiff. Laying her gun down, Sam ran a hand through Danse’s sweaty locks and kissed him gently on the forehead.

   “I love you Matt. You’ll always be my Paladin.” Sam whispered. Going back to her now dying fire, she never noticed Danse’s mouth stretch into a grin.

_Fin_


	2. The Price of Duty, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have messaged me and asked me to continue this Fic. Here's another chapter. Like last time, Maxson is not an asshole, but Rhys is. Fucking hate that guy.  
> Please read, rate, and enjoy.

Sam looked down at her holo-tags. It still seemed like a dream, but it wasn’t. She was a Paladin now, but it still came at a cost. Danse was an exile, the news of his identity having spread throughout the Prydwen like a wildfire. As people passed her, they all congratulated Sam on her promotion. A few of them even thanked her for killing Danse, and it hurt to hear that they had forgotten about him and his actions, just because of something that was out of his control.

Suddenly, a mug slid across the table in-front of her, and looking up, Sam saw Haylen. Haylen had gotten off with a warning when Arthur had returned to the Prydwen, which was a surprise to both herself and Sam.

  “Hey there Paladin…” Haylen said, laughing at the end. Sam had filled Haylen in concerning Danse and the sympathy that Arthur had shown. Now that she outranked Rhys, both Haylen and Sam would joke with him. It didn’t come as a shock that Rhys hated it. Rhys had even confronted Arthur about Sam’s promotion to Paladin, saying that she had only been a member for a short time and that she didn’t deserve to get the position. He was rewarded with a shift, cleaning latrines.

  “How are you, Scribe Haylen?” Sam replied, doing her best impression of Danse. Both women started laughing but Sam could feel a pair of eyes bearing down on her. Looking over her shoulder, Sam could see Rhys leaning against the wall, staring daggers at her. After putting her tags back on, Sam ignored Rhys and went back to chatting with Haylen. After a short time, a scribe ran up to Sam, telling her that Arthur wanted her, back in his quarters for a short briefing. After Sam said goodbye to Haylen and finished the warm cup of coffee, she went to leave the mess hall, only for Rhys to stop her by putting his arm across the doorway. Haylen looked up from her cup and saw them both talking. The fact that they weren’t throwing punches yet was a good sign.

  “I don’t know where the hell you get off on mocking former Paladin Danse, but he was a better leader than you, a better soldier than you and you will never be able to hold a candle to him, just thought you should know.” Rhys said, before he pulled his arm back and allowed Sam to pass by. Sam simply rolled her eyes and ignored him.

  Knocking on Arthur’s door, Sam waited. Arthur opened the door and greeted Sam inside. Not many people were allowed to see the inside of the Elder’s Quarters, the perk only being given to dignitaries or the members of Arthur’s inner circle. Some Proctors had dubbed this inner circle, Arthur’s ‘Round table’ having taken the term from pre-war novels.

  “Greetings Paladin, may I say Congratulations on your promotion. Isn’t it funny that our enemy, has now given us one of our strongest weapons in this war? If it wasn’t for that traitor and infiltrator, we may never have met…” Arthur said as Sam passed by. Closing the door behind her, Arthur headed over to his desk and pulled two glasses out of a drawer. A bottle of whiskey followed and Arthur than took a seat beside Sam on the somewhat ragged couch that sat in the corner. Passing a glass to Sam, Arthur filled them and sat back, his features softening, he almost looked relaxed.

  “If I remember Arthur, you were the first person to congratulate me on the new job. Thanks, by the way. I mean that.” Sam said, sipping her drink. Arthur took a drink and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Theatrics Paladin. If word got out about what I allowed happen, Order would be destroyed! Brothers and sisters would fear for their lives and panic would ensue. If we make sure that everyone believes that Cedric is dead, that order will remain intact. Unfortunately, I had to erase his name from the Codex this morning… How is he?” Arthur said. It surprised Sam that Arthur missed Danse so much. First impressions really were deceiving. A man who had established himself as a force of nature, an immovable object, was saddened over the absence of someone close to him, someone he could have called a friend.

  “Pretty impressive show. You know, Arthur, that if we are ever to make an Alliance between my Minutemen and the Brotherhood, I should probably invite you down to the castle… so you can see how efficient we are. You can even meet the men who are working for me…” Sam suggested. Without moving, Arthur turned his head and stared at Sam. Sam could see the gears turning in his head as Arthur thought about what Sam had suggested. Sam had to hide a smirk when she saw the realisation flash across his face.

  “That’s a great idea Paladin. I do believe I’ll take you up on your offer. Contact me as soon as possible when you have a chance to give me a tour. For now, report to Proctor Quinlan, he’s been asking me to send patrols out on tech runs. Thankfully, with you around, I don’t need to waste the men…” Arthur said, shaking Sam’s hand.

  “No problem Elder Maxson sir. I’ll have my own people contact yours. Expect to hear from us soon.” Sam said, saluting. Just as Sam left, Arthur went back to staring at a spot of rust on the adjacent wall.

  “I just hope that you’ll forgive me, old friend…”

Danse stood in the courtyard of the castle. Sam had recruited him into the Minuteman and had made him Drill Sergeant. It would keep him busy, training the soldiers, and he was thankful for the second chance at life. Danse felt sick when he had found out about his synth identity at first, but between Sam and the occasional visit from Nick Valentine, it was making the transition easier. When Nick had found out at first, he had made the smart remark that Danse should be happy that he was a Gen 3 and not a Gen 2 like him. Danse had defined features and Nick had a patchy face. Cait could be heard at the opposite side of the courtyard, laughing loudly.

  Danse kept away from Sam for a while, despite their feelings for one another. After Sam had confronted him again regarding her feelings for him, Danse told Sam about how afraid he was that the Institute would take control and use him as an instrument of their will. Sam had assured Danse that he was being crazy, strengthening her point by asking Danse that if they were going to do that, why hadn’t the Institute done it already. It took some work, but after a while, Danse had gotten comfortable in his own skin again and now whenever Sam was around the castle, they’d share a bed together before Sam would have to leave again.

  “Captain! Captain Danse!” Preston shouted as he crossed the courtyard. Danse turned, facing the colonel. The recruits behind him, thankful for the break.

  “What is it Colonel Garvey?” Danse asked, joining his hands behind his back. No matter how many times Preston had asked Danse to refer to him as Preston, Danse had refused, urging the need for decorum between the officers. The only one Danse referred to by their first name was Sam, and even that was behind closed doors. In front of the Minutemen, Sam was either General, or Paladin.

  “I just got word from the General. She’s on her way here. We’ll be having a briefing when she arrives because we’ll also be accommodating a few Brotherhood dignitaries soon.” Preston said. While Preston seemed happy about the news, the colour had drained from Danse’s face. He was terrified. After Preston bid Danse farewell, Danse went back to drilling the recruits. Danse felt a bit on edge and seemed to take it out on the recruits, at least that’s what he thought happened after one of them almost fainted from exhaustion. Danse gave them the rest of the day off and sent Turner, who had almost fainted, to Curie in the Infirmary. Danse retreated into his office which was close to Sam’s Quarters. Danse wanted to talk before the Brotherhood arrived.

  While being Drill Sergeant, Danse was also in charge of making up squads to go out into the Commonwealth. He couldn’t focus as he stared down at all the names in the ledgers, so Danse decided to go and grab some water from the Purifier, hoping the cool, evening air would help him concentrate. As he exited his office, Danse suddenly found himself in a choke hold. His back had to bend as his attacker was slightly shorter than him, but depending on his attacker’s skills, that could be an advantage. Rather than trying to remove their arms from around his neck, Danse simply grabbed his attacker’s arms and using his raw strength, lifted them over his shoulder and pinned them under his leg. Danse was panting, as the shock had made him gasp and lose his breath. Now that Danse was able to get a better look at his attacker, he recognized the eyes looking back at him. He recognized the joyful sparkle, paired with the lustful wink. He recognized Sam, laughing underneath him. Danse sighed deeply before he stood up. Sam stood up quickly and wrapped her arms around Danse. Danse reciprocated the embrace before he kissed her gently on the cheek. The colour ran across her face as Sam blushed.

  “What the hell was that about Sam? I could have hurt you, or worse!” Danse urged, happy that Sam hadn’t gotten wounded.

  “I’ve to keep you on your toes Soldier boy! We can’t have you getting soft because you’re not constantly out in the field.” Sam said, her grin still splitting her face from ear to ear. “I suppose Preston filled you in?”

  “Yes, Colonel Garvey passed the message on. What the hell do I do? You heard Arthur, if he sees me again, it won’t just be a sedative in the next dart.” Danse said, opening the door for Sam into their Quarters.

  “Believe me, you shouldn’t be worried. Who do you think it was that set up the meeting?” Sam said, placing her weapons into a locker by the door. After taking her duster coat and combat armour off, Sam sat on her couch in just a pale blue shirt and tan trousers. The black boots finished off the outfit. She called it her ‘casuals’.

  “Why would Arthur want to see me? He hates synths and everything they stand for. Why else do you think he had us go and clear out the railroad. He even blew up Old North Church afterward…” Danse said, sitting beside Sam.

  “You may not think it, but Arthur does miss you. He wanted a proper chance to say goodbye. Rhys and Haylen are coming as well. Ingram said to say goodbye as well. They will be the only people who know you’re still alive. Rhys doesn’t know why they’re really coming down, me and Haylen decided that it might be a nice surprise.” Sam explained, resting her hand on Danse’s.

  Danse was silent for a while before he said.

  “What about the Alliance?”

  “Funny thing is, me and Arthur sorted that out ages ago over a bottle of Whiskey. The Minutemen will supply fresh food and crops in exchange for armour and weapons. We’ll also get some old suits of T-45 power armour, which I was hoping you’d teach the classes on using them, and the Brotherhood would be able to use or settlements, resources, and be given flare guns in case they need aid. Complete mutual benefits. A win-win for either side. We’re just using that as an excuse for Arthur to leave the Prydwen and it not seem strange or sudden. This visit will be as Arthur, Rhys, and Haylen. Not Elder, Knight, and scribe. They’ll be here in the morning, so I want you up bright and early, soldier.” Sam said, pressing a light kiss to Danse’s chin.

 Danse sat in silence once again for a few moments. Danse turned to face Sam and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. Sam wrapped her own arms around Danse, but she was shocked when she felt Danse shake slightly, even more so when she felt tears on her shoulder. Sam patted Danse on the back, allowing him to release all his pent-up emotions. After a few minutes, Danse pressed a kiss to Sam’s scalp before he broke the hug.

  “Sam… Thank you.” Danse said.

  “Anything for my Paladin… now come on, we should get to bed.” Sam said, standing up. Danse rose after her and after they changed their clothes, they crawled into bed together and slept, wrapped in each other’s arms. Danse had known the Lone Wanderer back when Sarah was still alive. Danse was a knight at the time, but he had always loved hearing the Wanderer’s stories about his adventures. Danse would also remember the Wanderer saying that his hardest mission had been winning Sarah Lyon’s heart, and each time he told the story, the elder would appear from the shadows to give him a dig in the arm, or kiss him on the cheek. Most of the time it would be both. The Wanderer would say that there was no better thing than having someone you could rely on whenever and Danse now knew what he meant. Sam was his Sarah. No wonder the Wanderer had dropped off the face of the earth when Sarah died. Danse was sure that losing Sam like that would kill him.

  The following morning, Sam and Danse were both standing in the castle’s courtyard, waiting to see Excalibur appear in the distance. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon, and the crisp Boston air was penetrating Sam’s duster coat. Sam tightened the coats grip, hoping that she would begin to warm up. It was then that Danse took off the bomber jacket that Haylen had sent him from the airport, and draped it on Sam’s shoulders. It was at least two, if not three sizes too big, but Sam was grateful for the extra layer. Because of the nature of the trip, Danse had felt that he should look well, so after asking Sam, she just happened to have an old pair of Nate’s slacks sitting in the box of things that she had sent down from Sanctuary hills. Danse looked strange in a shirt, jacket, and trousers. But Sam thought he looked nice.

  “Thanks, but won’t you get cold?” Sam said. Danse opened the top button on his shirt.

  “I appreciate the concern Sam, but I’m so nervous, the cold is the last thing on my mind.” Danse said, laughing nervously. Sam stood at Danse’s side and hugged him. It almost said that everything would be alright and that he shouldn’t be worrying so much, but Danse found it hard. Soon, the familiar rumble of a Vertibird Engine could be heard, and by using her rifle scope, Sam confirmed Excalibur’s designation before Danse took his jacket and went inside the castle. Sam grabbed the microphone from the mast’s controls.

  “Vertibird designation EX-001E, Excalibur, do you read?” Sam said.

  “We hear you loud and clear Paladin. The Elder, a Knight, and a Scribe are on board. Are we clear to approach?” The lancer replied.

  “Perfect, just land outside the wall and I’ll meet you on the ground. Winters out.”

 Sam replaced the microphone before she readjusted her coat. After closing the last few buttons, Sam placed her Tricorn hat on her head and walked over to the wall. After a few minutes, Excalibur landed, and Arthur, Haylen, and Rhys jumped disembarked. Arthur seemed to observe the castle’s defensive capabilities, while Haylen stared at the crumbling stone walls in awe. Rhys was scowling and looked as though he wanted to point the laser rifle that was in his hand, at the minutemen that were darting around him.

  “Nice place you have here Paladin. I’m impressed.” Arthur said, as he walked towards Sam, shaking her hand. Haylen ran up and hugged Sam before she remembered that Arthur was present and broke away, awkwardly shaking Sam’s hand. Rhys walked past Sam, completely ignoring her.

  “Thank you, Elder Maxson sir. Believe me, the castle looks a lot better now than it did three months ago when we took it back from a nasty infestation of Mirelurks. Even had to kill a Queen to clear it all out.” Sam replied. Arthur looked surprised, while even Rhys had arched an eyebrow. When Rhys and Sam had made eye contact, the eyebrow dropped, and Rhys natural scowl returned.

  Haylen had gone inside the castle, already being accustomed to the place after Sam had asked her to come down and help repair the radio mast. A behemoth had thought that it would be funny to throw a brahmin at the antennae but had only received mortar fire and a mini nuke shell, for its trouble. Rhys went to stop Haylen, but when he saw Arthur and Sam head off in another direction, Rhys ran off after them.

  “Elder Maxson sir, can you please let me know where you go? As your protection, we should not be too far away from each other.” Rhys said, looking around. Arthur turned and faced Rhys. His cold, steel coloured eyes, bearing down on the Knight.

  “I’m well capable of defending myself, Knight, plus, need I remind you that our friend, the general, is a Paladin?” Arthur said, before he turned around again, resuming his chat with Sam. Rhys huffed before he holstered his rifle and followed the Elder and Sam on the tour. Roughly an hour later, the tour finished outside the castle’s conference room. Sam held the door open for Arthur and Rhys. Haylen was already inside with a wide smile on her face. Rhys thought it strange, and cautiously took a seat beside her. Across from him, sat Arthur and at the head of the table, sat Sam. Haylen began to drum her fingers on the table lightly as Sam and Arthur debated their terms for the Alliance. Rhys began to tone out and he stared around the room. The crumbling mortar was nothing special and quite a bit of Rhys couldn’t understand how people used to trust their lives to the stone. Trust Steel. Steel is strong and protective, while a well-placed grenade could destroy stone. Rhys could feel a pair of eyes on him and staring around the room, Sam and Arthur were still tied up in their conversation while Haylen was away in her own mind. No one was paying Rhys any attention, so why did he feel so on edge. Rhys stood up, excused himself from the table and left the conference room. Heading for the water purifier, Rhys decided that a glass of clean water would hopefully calm his nerves. It was then that Rhys noticed something, or rather someone. A large, bulky man dressed in plaid. Black hair and a scarred face that heavily resembled someone. Danse.

  Rhys abandoned his quest for a glass of water and followed the strange person. Despite the mans large stature, he seemed to disappear in the large group of minutemen that were scrambling around the courtyard. Rhys didn’t know why, but he refused to give up the chase of the illusive minuteman.

  Danse was swerving through the crowds. He had hoped that Rhys hadn’t seen him out in the courtyard, but he hadn’t planned for Rhys to leave Arthur’s side, even if they were still in talking. If Rhys was to see him now, it would complicate Sam’s thought out plan. There weren’t many places for Danse to hide in the castle, but Danse was a lot more familiar with the castle’s layout than Rhys was, so Danse was hopeful that fact would help him out. The other problem was that Rhys was a stubborn bastard and if he suspected foul play, then nothing short of a direct order from Arthur would stop him.

   Making his way out through the main gate, Danse waved to Preston and pressed his fingers up to his lips. Preston gave Danse a swift nod with his hat and continued observing the horizon. Following the coast, Danse went to where he was certain that he would lose Rhys. As Danse bent down to tie the loose laces on his boot, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Looking up, Danse didn’t have the chance to do anything before he received a haymaker to the head and was knocked out cold.

  Sam noticed that Rhys seemed to be gone for quite a while, and worry had begun to creep up on her. Her worry was founded when Preston pushed the conference doors open, looking urgent.

  “I’m sorry to barge in General, but you might wanna come out here, and quick!” Preston said, slightly out of breath. Sam stood up, apologised to Arthur and walked out into the courtyard. What she saw, scared her.

  Rhys stood in the centre of the courtyard, pointing his rifle at Danse’s head. Danse had a fine stream of blood running from his forehead down towards his chin and his clothes had gotten ruined from having been dragged through the mud. Sam knew that the situation was difficult, but her hand instinctively tensed over the 44. Calibre Revolver that she strapped to her hip. There were firing squads lined up to the left and right of Sam and Preston, their rifles all aimed at Rhys. The tension was palpable. Rhys’ usual sneer had evolved now into a look of absolute disgust and hatred for Sam.

  “Ah, there’s the good Paladin. Look at who I found. You disgust me, you synth-loving bitch. ELDER MAXSON!” Rhys shouted. Sam heard a gasp behind her. Turning around, Sam saw Haylen, her hand up in front of her mouth in shock. She looked as though she was about to cry, so as Arthur passed by, Sam held Haylen in her arms.

  “Elder Maxson sir. I’ve found Former-Paladin Danse. Paladin Samantha Winters has been harbouring him here within her assembled forces. Who knows how many of these Minutemen of hers are synths. I cannot condone the Alliance between the Brotherhood and this piss poor excuse for a civilian militia.” Rhys said, pointing his rifle at Sam. Danse looked up briefly, looking at Sam and Haylen, then to Arthur. Finally, he looked up to Rhys, who looked at him with the same hatred as Sam. Rhys slammed the stock of his rifle into Danse’s face and a he broke his nose. Danse exclaimed in pain but as his hands were bound in rope, Danse was unable to clutch at his wound and blood was falling down his face in torrents. There were now tears falling down Haylen’s face and Sam clutched onto her tightly. Sam wanted to grab her sidearm and shoot Rhys in the knee, but that was a bomb that she’d allow Arthur to defuse. If Sam got involved now, she’d end up doing something she’d probably regret.

 Arthur continued walking towards Rhys, not even flinching at the horrible sound that Rhys’ gun made when it collided with Danse’s face. Arthur, for once was caught between a rock and a hard place. Danse was his best friend, but if Rhys managed to get back to the Prydwen and spread stories that their beloved Elder was a synth sympathiser, there’d be untold chaos. People would come day after day, attempting to fight him and take his place as Elder. Arthur didn’t know what to do, so putting on the harshest face he could, Arthur attempted to intimidate Rhys.

  “Knight, as your Elder, I order you to stand down! NOW! If Paladin Winters is in fact, a synth harbourer, I will deal with her accordingly. But lifting a weapon at both the General of the Minuteman could jeopardize this Alliance. Now, Stand down!” Arthur shouted. Rhys looked at Arthur, and then Sam. Shaking his head, Rhys disengaged the safety on his rifle, before pointing it directly at Sam’s head.

  “I’m sorry Elder, but that woman over there, is a deceitful, possibly traitorous synth harbourer. She has infiltrated our Brotherhood and is possibly even a spy. I would be shirking my duty to you and to the Brotherhood if I allowed her to live much longer.” Rhys said, coldly. “She has broken our tenets and should be cast from the order, just like this filth here by my feet.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up Rhys! I can’t believe that you’d treat Danse like dirt! What happened to ‘Top is the best’ or ‘I’d follow Top to the end’? Just because he was unfortunate enough for something to happen to him that was outside his control! You go and treat him like a monster. He’s saved our lives on more occasions than I can count, and he even went into hiding in fear of being used by the Institute. Former-Paladin Danse is a symbol of what we should strive to be, yet we casted him away.” Haylen said, wriggling free from Sam’s arms. Sam was surprised at Haylen’s outburst and found Danse staring at her, shocked by Haylen’s words. Sam inwardly winced when she saw the dried blood and Danse’s nose bent at an awkward angle. Now Rhys looked at Haylen as well, shocked and seemingly betrayed.

  “Synths are not alive, they don’t have souls, they can’t love or mourn. They are a sin against nature and yet you defend one? The real Danse is probably thrown into a shallow grave somewhere, and this creature had the audacity to wear his face. How can you two not see that?!” Rhys said.

  “Knight, I am warning you. Either drop your weapon or we will be forced to open fire. This display has gone on for long enough!” Arthur said, raising his hands in front of him. Again, Rhys stared at Sam, his expression neutral, yet his eyes showed an untapped fury. Levelling his rifle once again at Sam’s head, Rhys chuckled before his finger twitched on the trigger.

 Before Rhys could get the shot off, Danse shifted his weight and knocked Rhys over. The rope binding his arms broke and Danse began straddling Rhys, trying to knock him out. Their sparring history meant that Rhys was familiar with Danse’s techniques and he also knew of a weakness in Danse’s left side. Rhys kicked Danse in an old sniper injury that never healed right, and the veteran soldier locked up. Throwing Danse off him, Rhys grabbed his rifle but before he could shoot, he and Danse began grappling over the weapon. A shot rang off. Everyone turned and saw Sam clutching her stomach. She’d been shot in the stomach. Danse immediately left go of the rifle and scrambled over to pick Sam up. Rhys then levelled his rifle on Danse’s back but before he could fire, Arthur right-hooked him, knocking him out cold.

  Danse gently lifted Sam up, holding her as steadily as he could so that he would cause anymore damage. Forgetting where Curie’s Infirmary was, Danse looked in every direction until Preston grabbed his arm and directed him inside. Sam began to cough, and blood splattered out, coating the neck of Danse’s shirt in the crimson liquid. Danse lay Sam down on the gurney in Curie’s office and stared at the blood on his hands. Danse was internally panicking, despite his stoic outward expression. Curie began to curse in French as the supplies she needed were in relatively small supply. Danse looked up to see the clinic door slam in his face. For such a small person, Curie was surprisingly strong. Danse headed to the showers to clean the blood of his hands. When he got there, it was completely empty, so grabbing a sponge, Danse scrubbed the blood off his hands with such a ferocity that some of the blood on his hands could have been his own. As Danse took a deep breath, he heard a loud whistle. Looking in the mirror, Danse saw the extent of his nasal injury and in the ensuing carnage, he had forgotten about trying to fix it. It would bruise but Danse was sure that after dealing with Sam, Curie would be able to fix it. After wiping his own blood off his face, Danse left the showers, intending on heading back to the infirmary in case Curie needed something or someone. Only thing is, when Danse left the showers, he bumped into Arthur.

  The atmosphere was awkward between the long-time friends, due to the new-found circumstances. Danse cleared his throat and began looking out over the courtyard. Arthur seemed to find his trademark battle coat a bit tight and loosened the first few top buttons. The silence was deafening until Arthur finally broke it.

  “I’m sorry Cedric.”

  “There’s no need to apologise Arthur, I’d have done the same in your position. I was an unknown risk and you stopped me from harming the Brotherhood. In fact, I wouldn’t have expected any different from you.”

  “Am I really that shallow, that you’d expect me to kill off my closest allies, the minute they become a liability…”

 “Damn it Arthur, I didn’t mean it like that... You did what was expected of you.”

  “Why did it have to happen to you?! Why couldn’t it have happened to some shit-stain like Rhys? The Order lost a valuable soldier when I erased you from the Codex. How are you settling in?”

  “Arthur, you shouldn’t talk about your knights so harshly. What he did, I’d have expected of any Brotherhood soldier. But when he began to threaten Sam, I don’t know what happened after that…, what will happen to Knight Rhys? I imagine things didn’t work out like planned.”

  “You mean Former-Knight Rhys. If he gets back aboard the Prydwen, then chaos would ensue. It was bad enough when he almost publicly executed you, but firing upon a fellow brotherhood soldier and disobeying a direct order from the Elder? He signed his own death warrant after that. I hope Paladin Winters doesn’t mind that I threw him in the holding cells down in the basement. He’ll be exiled just like you I suppose.”

  “If she wasn’t unconscious, I’m pretty sure we’d already have buried him.”

  “How is Paladin Winters. I’ve seen you stare down Deathclaws, Behemoths, and Mirelurk Queens, but when she hit the floor, I swear I’ve never seen you so scared Danse. Am I right in saying that you are more than just friends?” Arthur was smirking slightly.

  “That would be a correct assumption. We never broke protocol when we were both members of the Brotherhood, but we’ve began an amorous relationship since. You may believe that synths don’t feel love, Arthur, but what ever I’m feeling now is frightening.”

  “You’re like Louie and Sarah back in the Citadel. I swear they were inseparable in the end. Just be careful Danse. You maybe a synth, but you’re nothing like the soulless husks I’ve been gladly putting down. You’re the rare exception. The robot with the soul.” Arthur extended his hand.

  Danse wrapped his arms around Arthur, almost as though they were brothers. It would hurt that Arthur had lost the last person he could see as family but knowing that he was still alive and well was nice. Arthur returned the hug.

  “Now go and see your woman Cedric, I’d say she’d want you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up.” Danse gave one final salute before he patted Arthur on the shoulder and went away back inside the castle. Danse sat outside Curie’s surgery for two hours. After Curie announced that Sam would be alright, Danse moved his chair inside the surgery, placing it beside Sam. Danse wiped the sweat from Sam’s forehead and delicately rubbed Sam’s cheek. In the silence of the room, Danse could hear his nose whistling and it seemed that he wasn’t the only one. Curie came in a short while later and grabbing his nose, pulled it back into it’s rightful position. After injecting a stimpak into his face to ease the rebuild, pain and blood-flow, Curie told Danse to come back if the whistling continued, checked Sam’s vitals and left again. After the long day, Danse soon fell asleep.

  Danse woke up sometime later when he felt someone grasp his hand. Looking up, Danse met Sam’s gentle blue eyes and he jumped up, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. Sam smiled as much as she could before she winced from the chest pain. A creak brought their attention to the doorway, where Preston was standing, holding a series of documents. It was the Alliance treaty with Arthur’s surprisingly elegant signature along the bottom. With it was a note telling Sam that she was off active duty until Cade gave her a full medical. As well as ordering her to the Prydwen when she had healed up. She was to the new head of Squad Ramses.

 Sam put the documents back down on her bedside locker, looking to Danse. Danse smiled and leaned close, his bristles tickling her cheek.

  “Sam, you are the love of my life. You are my duty now, and I will protect you with my life.”

  “I love you too Cedric, now lie down here beside me. I’m cold.”

  “As you wish.”


End file.
